


Last Mile Home

by coolhandsloop



Category: Wynonna Earp (TV)
Genre: Bobo is a blacksmith, Bobo is nice, Bull Riding, Drinking, F/F, Nicole Has A Temper, Revenant Nicole Haught, Rodeo AU, Smoking, Supernatural Elements, West - Freeform, cowboy, rancher, some violence, yeehaw
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-18
Updated: 2020-08-18
Packaged: 2021-03-06 08:22:10
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,544
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25966570
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/coolhandsloop/pseuds/coolhandsloop
Summary: Will Nicole risk her centuries old secret for rodeo fame or for a new found, small-town flame?
Relationships: Waverly Earp/Nicole Haught
Comments: 2
Kudos: 54





	Last Mile Home

There is nothing special about her really. She has tried her best to live a more than common life. Her name will not be immortalized in past lovers’ poetry or told inside history books. All that is left of the old Nicole Haught rests underneath a shallow grave haphazardly dug in the cold prairie night some 140 years back. Immortalized only within initials hastily scratched onto a weathered wooden marker about 1500 miles east of her life now, long gone.

Here as she drives through the dead of night, she feels no longer aware of how common she has convinced herself to be, or anyone who has come to know her over the past decade or so. She is aware of her body, aware of her differences. Reminded of the reason why she shouldn’t take a chance riding into the spotlight on a chute fighter. Reminded why she could never stray too far from the ranch she has been confined to from the outside world for too long. Reminded why she could never truly give her full, authentic self to another for a lifetime. Reminded of the lectures she has received over the last century from her only real companion, one with shared life experience. _What are they going to say when you stand up and walk away unscathed every time? What happens when you let your temper flare so bad your eyes rival the red on that thick head of yours, Nic?_

As the events of the early evening slowly grace the presence of her jaded, throbbing head, she considers maybe, just maybe Robert was right.

  
_The crowd has reacted!_

One punch in the left temple by the ham-fisted crony belonging to the second-place rider.

_The judges have made their decision!_

Another two in the nose.

_Ladies and gentlemen, your 2020 Ghost River Rodeo Finals bull-riding champion is newcomer Nicole Haught, out of Poteau, Oklahoma with the qualified ride!_

Followed by several kicks to the stomach by the rest of the guys hanging around the sore loser as if it were the only purpose for them on this earth.

As stubborn as the bulls she has handled in her 167 years out in the open prairies of the now modernized and tamed west, Nicole could never see that Robert understood what she was struggling with, until that moment.

While she laid there, curled up on the dirt ground outside the locker rooms in the arena, hair wet with the cheap beer spilled on her, Nicole caught her breath. Going through the motions of her mantra, the one she has practiced day in and day out for decades in order to come down. To not expose her true self.

The temptation to show off, to use your strength for your own selfish gain, right under the noses of those unlike you. Robert knew temptation. From his past using simple slight of hand tricks to steal coins from children or snatching watches from the pockets of men during some of his worst times living on the city streets, to the trains he’d force to speeding halts on the miles of railroad tracks with only the power of his hands, robbing the helpless passengers on their way to find a more fulfilling and promising life out west. Rodeo money and a slice of fame are not all there is to life. Over time the pair have earned a healthy amount of wealth with their modest ranch operation. Robert uses his unique capabilities focusing on blacksmithing and forging the equipment needed for the ranch labor and needs of the locals. Nicole handles the daily routine of tending to cattle, organizing business deals, and fixing up any broken fence post or faulty machine.

Although deep down Nicole does realize this, her stubbornness will never allow her to admit the real reason for this urge to risk it all. Nicole is a damn good rancher she has never been so sure of anything but that. As high as she gets on this confidence, the harder and lower she falls, deflating at the realization that maybe this is the only thing she will ever be able to pursue. Using her ranching skills as her ticket to get out. Not to experience a slice of fame, but a slice of life in general. There have been many fights over the decades because of it. Eyes turning a fiery red, quick as the tides turning over the ocean surface. Their deepening voices rising up in argument. Her temper begins to flare at the memories.

“Yea, right,” Nicole thought, “Maybe the old humble blacksmith was right.”

Besides, Nicole knew her strength was unmatched by a motley crew of reject cowboys and part time hands. She knew her healing capabilities would have lessened the pain from the constant blows and bashes in a matter of minutes. Still, her temper usually gets the best of her in times like these. She did what she could do, pull her hat down and get back up.

Nicole’s attention pulled from her thoughts and placed rightfully so back on the road as she arrived outside of civilization, albeit not by much. She turned the worn leather steering wheel of her old truck and pulled in front of the seemingly only lively place in this quiet, one stop light town— the bar.

With a well-deserved celebration calling her name, Nicole walked toward the bar, boots almost in time with the country western oldies passing through the swinging lights clouded by cigarette smoke, filling the atmosphere of the room. She orders a beer, nothing in particular. Waiting for the bartender, she has an almost foolish look on her face as she quietly prides herself in her rodeo win.

“Nice buckle. Is it vintage?” A petite girl asks from behind her with an almost sing song voice.

“Kinda,” Nicole stands up, posturing her taller body to face the other woman. “Yea…I guess I just wear it a lot so it might look er…pretty old.” She mentally kicks herself. What can she do? Tell her that the buckle belonged to a man she once worked for in 1873? She sighed and chalked it up to the night she’s had.

“Oh,” Almost attempting to carry on the conversation the shorter girl stops.

“I’m Nicole, I just came here from the rodeo in the next town over” She introduces herself in a painfully awkward attempt to salvage this interaction. It’s not always Nicole finds herself standing in the presence of a beautiful woman.

“Waverly. I just came here from…well…here.” She looks away almost sinking at the admission.

The brunette’s eyes began to shift toward the pool tables at the back of the bar, occupied by a familiar group of assholes Nicole had the pleasure of dealing with earlier after winning her event. Nicole stood with one hand in her pocket, crossing her fingers that she does not lead the beautiful woman standing before her away with her lack of conversational skills. Or the rising heat in her throat as her shifting red eyes begin to burn curses into the drunk pool players across the establishment.

“Listen,” she clears her throat. “I don’t mean to come off rude. Can I buy you a drink? Start over?” Hoping to sound as charming as possible, Nicole’s now deep, black eyes pleaded with Waverly.

“Better than wasting another night of my young life on the same old rodeo clowns that the dust drags in every weekend. I would be honored, cowboy.” She winked.

Nicole was in.

* * *

As the night continued into the early hours of the morning, the conversation remained young. With the rancher sharing tales of her life riding, roping, and traveling on week-long cattle drives, not saying which particular years in her life these events took place of course, and the other woman sitting in awe, fascinated by the events of the world outside. One that has been waiting for her own conquests to come. A world 300 long, long miles from this scanty town of hers. If only this world would grab her by the horns and send her on a lifetime of excitement and adventure.

“Anyway, that all feels like _lifetimes_ ago.” Nicole laughed at her own lame inside joke, taking another sip of her beer.

“Well, where do you think you’re headed to next on this _grand_ adventure?” Waverly exaggerates almost mocking her.

“I guess it all depends really.” The red head says quietly after pondering for a moment.

The brunette raises her eyebrows at the woman across the high-top table, “Oh yeah? On what?”

“Well…on what kind of adventure I might find in this here small town.” Nicole winks.

Waverly leans back, taking a sip of her drink and taking in the self-assured, cocky cowboy in front of her. It’s getting late, she can’t tell which tall glass is the cause of her buzzing haze. Not breaking eye contact, she smiles contently at the woman before her. Maybe this is the world finally reaching out to her.

* * *

There is nothing special about her really. She has lived a more than common life, but after a long harrowing day, Nicole has found love nesting within her heart and soul, and that is enough. Enough to take the risk.


End file.
